


Intermediation

by unwindmyself



Series: curious shapes shift in the dark [15]
Category: True Blood
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Female Friendship, Fix-It, Gen, Vampire Family, agency and choices!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwindmyself/pseuds/unwindmyself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric, Nora, and Jessica's adventures in tangents had while trying to fix the world between one event and another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intermediation

**Author's Note:**

> Part three, "It Was Blue."

They stay in the bath far longer than they ought, probably.  They hear Jessica getting up and walking around in the other room, rummaging for goodness knows what, but it’s not like they’re really in a hurry tonight, Pam and Tara promised to call when they’d finished meeting with Sookie (everyone had agreed that it was wisest for them to be the ones to) and until then, it’s just more brainstorming and reading.

And this is something Nora knows about herself and something Eric knows about her too: when she gets in her moods (it’s not _that_ often that she does, but even still) she’s all but useless to the world until they’re tended to.  It’s catharsis, is what it is.  It’s _therapy_.

It sure doesn’t hurt that part of the reason they stay so long in the bath is that she gets the notion to say thank you by way of an underwater blow job, either.  One good turn deserves another, and she hasn’t done _that_ to him in centuries, not since they’d holed up in that little cabin near Vänern for a fortnight when Godric had been out tending to other business and – well.  They’re fond memories, but Eric’s always been the sort to enjoy the _now_ rather than the _then_ if given the option.

Eric only makes to rejoin the world when he sees his sister’s expression has returned to normal, after all he has to take care of her.  “Jessica must be worrying,” he teases as he pulls her from the tub.

“I’m sure Jessica is a big girl,” Nora shrugs, reaching for a towel to toss at him.

Routines.  It’s all routine, but none of it’s dull.  It all has its place.  “Let’s make a bet,” he says as he begins to dry her off.  “Over-under, it’s two minutes before she mentions it.”

“Over,” she declares.

“Fine,” he agrees.  “I win, I want more of _that_.”  With a suggestive nod back toward the tub as he leads her back to the bedroom.

“You’re getting more of it anyway,” she retorts.  “Dress, please.”

“Don’t you want your underthings first?” he asks.

And of course she just rolls her eyes.  “Dress, please.”

He speeds to pull his own clothes on, then retrieves her dress from the floor where she left it and helps her tug it over her head and retie the belt.  “Bossy,” he chides.

“I said please,” she exclaims.

“And so you did,” he acknowledges. 

Everything feels back to normal, or normal enough, but he also knows his sweet sister and knows she still might need him to take care of her.  She’s almost to the door when he goes to rummage in the drawers again, then comes to take her arm in his hands and gently fasten a leather bracelet around her left wrist with one of his carefullest smiles.  It’s decorative, it’s _normal_ even, but they both understand the metaphor, and it makes her own smile go trusting and playful both.

“Let’s join our guest,” he says.

 

* * *

 

Jessica’s already in the sitting room with a copy of the vampire Bible in her lap, headphones around her neck, and her bare feet on the table.

“Hey,” she murmurs upon hearing Eric and Nora enter, lifting a hand as if to wave but not looking up from the book yet.  “Don’t bump the table, my toenails are still drying.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eric says wryly.

“Pretty color,” Nora declares after a glance down to the girl’s feet – it’s a rather plummy purple, one of her favorite colors actually – and before she sits down next to Eric.

“Thanks,” Jessica says, and she finally replaces the ribbon bookmark and shuts the Bible so she can give the other two a serious look.  “Y’all okay?”

Nora and Eric exchange glances with each other, somehow significant; Jessica’s a little jealous of the way they’re apparently able to say almost everything to each other just by looking, but that’s gotta be one of those things that comes with centuries of knowing each other. 

(She isn’t exactly sure how old Nora is, actually, she’s never asked, but she knows enough about vampires’ strength as it relates to age to know that Nora’s at least older than Bill, which means she can assume at least multiple centuries’ worth of history between the siblings.)

Right now, Nora’s biting back a smile, looking up at Eric all coyly and toying with the wide leather bracelet around her left wrist like that’s supposed to mean something, and since he presumably knows exactly what it means, he’s all smirks when he asks Jessica, “What makes you say that?”

“Heard noises,” Jessica says lightly, in a way she sure as hell wouldn’t have a couple weeks ago.  She’s sort of part of the family now, and anyway now that she’s their housemate or whatever, banter seems a little more natural.  (It’s actually sort of endearing to the others, but they’re not saying.)  “Couldn’t tell if it was sex or crying.”

Kind of a joke, because why wouldn’t it have been sex – a lot of sex – but still.

“Sex,” Eric replies bluntly and smugly both before Nora can.  She hasn’t stopped making that secret-smug face either, which okay, that’s a little weird, but not bad weird and Jessica figures it’s something she’s not going to get without asking and subsequently hearing way more details than she wants to.

“’Kay,” Jessica chirps.  There’s just no getting away from everyone else banging, apparently.  Pam and Tara bang more often, but Eric and Nora bang for longer, judging by this evening’s apparent sex marathon.  It’s just different.  “You kids be safe.”

Nora actually laughs at that – her laugh is surprisingly innocent-sounding – and cheerily retorts, “We always are.”

Between her tone of voice and her damn expression, Jessica’s entirely positive that they’re talking about two different things, but from Eric’s expression, she’s _sure_ she doesn’t want to know.

“So,” Nora says instead, leaning forward on her hands.  “Have you had any important revelations?”

Jessica shrugs sheepishly.  “That’s your job,” she says.  “I’m still tryin’ to figure out how to make sense of any of this shit.”

 

* * *

 

Eric’s not sure how, but somehow he’s been made to trade places with Jessica so he’s in the armchair and she’s on the couch next to Nora, and they’re sitting there actually reading out loud again, Nora reading in Aramaic and then translating it to English and then reading in Aramaic again so Jessica can repeat slowly and clumsily after her (“well, it may help to consider the original and not just the translation,” she points out, “things can get lost from language to language”).

He’s actually a little glad when he hears his phone ring, or he is for a moment anyway.

He jumps up to take the call, not wanting to disturb the women’s reading; he sees Pam’s number on the caller ID, so without much thinking about it, he answers with a dry, “ _God kväll_ _,_ _dotter_.”

There’s just the slightest of pauses before Pam speaks – he knows they haven’t been exactly on the best of terms lately, and he hadn’t thought before using the endearment, but it isn’t _that_ out of place – but when she does, she’s clearly already worked up.  “Y’all need to get down here now,” she hisses.

“Did it not go well with Miss Stackhouse?” he drawls.

“It went just fine with Miss Stackhouse,” Pam retorts.  “This isn’t _about_ her.  Crazy as it seems, not everything is.”

Eric sets his jaw, tries not to snap right back (that would be outrageously unhelpful, he knows).  “Then what’s the problem?” he asks instead.

“The problem is –”

She’s about to explain, but she’s interrupted by what sounds like a moan, and not the pleasant kind.  It’s faint enough that he knows it isn’t coming from her own lips (and besides, he knows every single one of her moans and what they do and don’t sound like), so the only assumption to make is, “What happened to your progeny, Pam?”

“Tara got fuckin’ shot,” Pam shouts, spitting out the name like she thinks Eric either forgot it or isn’t using it ‘cause he’s a dick (wouldn’t be a huge surprise).  “And Tara isn’t fuckin’ healing.”

Eric hangs up his phone and stuffs it in his pocket, then speeds over to where the women still sit. 

“Up,” he orders.  “Both of you.  Shoes on, we need to get over to Fangtasia.”

“Pam and Tara got back from talkin’ with Sookie?” Jessica questions.

“Pam and Tara got back from a whole lot more than that,” Eric mutters.  

**Author's Note:**

>  _god kväll, dotter_ ; "good evening, daughter"


End file.
